


Feels Like A Lifetime Ago

by samemistakes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Don't panic, M/M, So yeah, Some angst, also i find lilo ridiculous so spoilers, as well as certain kinks that may or not be in here, but i will always write that at the beginning of every chapter containing it, but not actually enough to take it seriously, just important for the plot, much embarrassment so prepare yourself, much frustration, much longing, no end game for those two, serious tomlinshaw stuff in there, some prominent ziam action instead, the haylor thing isn't an ACTUAL thing here, there will be several chapters with smut in here, there's some lilo in here as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 01:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2529299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samemistakes/pseuds/samemistakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Dear diary,</i><br/><i>I have valid reasons to doubt that my plans of a happy life are succeeding, even though I have already had that one perfect plan when I was thirteen. Before I would turn thirty, I was going to be successful. I was going to be slim and I was going to marry the perfect man. Sixteen years later, here I am, almost turning thirty, without a man, with a broken heart. Well, great. Instead, I am eleven pounds overweight.</i><br/>Or, a Hospital AU where Louis is the new assistant to the surgery department, and the head of the department may or may not be his former school crush that he never hoped to encounter again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feels Like A Lifetime Ago

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo, I finally decided to upload this fic, which is probably going to be the longest work I ever wrote! I want to thank Kira for reading through it as far as it goes, and just by the way, if you would like to be a beta for this, you can write me a message [here](http://wolverhammtin.co.vu/ask), I'd be very glad, considering I can use every support there is!  
> I've set myself a goal to upload every Saturday, if possible. The title is from "I Need A Doctor" by Eminem.  
> This fic is based on a successful German TV series called "Doctor's Diary", which I watched in German class and absolutely adored.

Louis sighs, turning his gaze to the water beneath him. The railing that he rests his elbows on is cold against his skin, in complete contrary to the burning sun above. The chocolate bar he holds in his hands is melting, and he lifts his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, causing the chocolate bar to slip out of his grip and land in front of the railing.

Great. Fits the day, to be honest.

He bites his lip for a moment before stepping onto the first rung, swinging one, then the other leg over the railing.

He still can't reach his chocolate. His life is such a failure, seriously. Not even his food is granted to him anymore.

“No, don't do that!” a voice behind him suddenly shouts. When Louis turns his head around, he is rewarded with the sight of a jogger sprinting towards him, gasping heavily in his effort to reach him. In his peripheral vision, Louis glances at the chocolate bar that is now remarkably nearer. Just a little step.

“Why? I'm too fat already anyway.”

“But that's no reason to simply give up on everything just like that!” the guy replies, his voice strained with panic. He has short brown hair and kind hazel eyes, even though the look in them is rather mental right now. “Just between you and me,” Louis huffs as he tries to near his right foot to the chocolate while trying not to let his hands slip from the railing, “I don't have much to give up on anymore anyway.” Almost there.

“Well,” the guy says, looking from the side of Louis' concentrated face to the water and back, “if you jump, I'll jump, too.” He draws in a deep breath. “And honestly, I'm actually the worst swimmer in the world.”

Louis lets his gaze wander to him. He looks as if he is ready to keep his promise, although he still rather seems like a deer in the flash lights. Then, he begins to climb the railing to join Louis on the other side, and that is when Louis snaps out of it.

“Sorry,” he says, frowning and shaking his head to get rid of his daze, “just one question. Are you totally crack-brained?”

“Yeah,” the man breathes heavily, not taking his eyes from the water. His knuckles turn white from gripping the railing so tightly. “And you are a wonderful man. And you're young. And you just got married,” he adds, nodding to Louis' tuxedo.

“Yes. Yeah. Yes.” Louis nods exaggeratedly, biting his lip. “I reckon he'd rather marry his assistant. That's what it looked like a minute ago, at least.” He takes another step towards of the chocolate bar to his feet. He rolls his eyes as the other man continues to try to talk him into climbing back. “There are people who will listen to you,” he says, “that will find a solution. Don't jump!” he adds as Louis loosens his grip a little to take another step forward. Grasping Louis' arm, he tries to draw him back. “Don't touch me!” Louis bellows, trying to get out of the other man's protective grip. When the other man doesn't loosen it, Louis drives his elbow in the guy's stomach, who instinctively clasps his hands in front of his belly in pain. “Ow!” he whines.

And falls.

Right into the water.

Louis wheezes, staring at the point in the water where the guy has just disappeared.

Fuck.

“Hello?” he shouts, his eyes still glued to the little waves that spread in circle motions over the surface of the lake. Then, a little louder: “Do you hear me?”

Slowly, Louis feels himself panic.

Okay. First, the chocolate. He carefully bends down to get a hold of the abandoned bar. Alright. Then comes the hypocratic oath. “I'm coming, hang on!”

With trembling fingers, he loosens his bow tie, taking a last deep breath before letting go of the railing and jumping.

 

 

Wheezing and coughing with one arm slung around the guy's waist, Louis crawls over the cold mud, drawing the other man behind him, who is very pale and seems too shocked to let out any noise at all.

“I mean, are you out of your mind? You couldn't actually have thought I was going to kill myself, could you?”

“Well, I don't know!” the other guy spits out, still coughing out water. “A crying man in a tuxedo who climbs over the railing?”

Louis grips the guy's chin to have a proper look at him, turning his face. “I've been cheated on a week before my wedding and am now forced to move back in to my parent's house, I'd say it's only appropriate that I cling to my chocolate bar in a situation like this!”

The guy gives him a confused, yet irritated look. “Considering I was just going to save your life you're behaving seriously bitchy right now!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you too, considering I just saved yours!” Louis pushes his arms back into the mud to help himself stand up, frowning. His tuxedo is full of mud, and he shakes an alga from his shoe. Formal shoes. Not like he was going to need them again, anyway.

The silence between them stretches out for a few seconds, only their mutual gasping audible over the sound of the calm waves. When the other guy speaks again, he sounds a lot calmer, although still breathing heavily. “So?” he says. “Are you going to forgive him?”

Louis huffs out a breath, stroking a loose stray of his wet quiff out of his eyes. “Well, it wasn't his fault his assistant was hitting on him so blonde and whorish, was it?” He smiles bitterly as he is met with a pitiful look. Images flash back to his mind: Him trying on the tuxedo for the wedding, dressing all up in anticipation to see the look on Darren's face, only to find him under a bouncing moaning woman. Slim and all that. It was priceless.

An annoyed expression replaces the smile. “Of fucking _course_ I won't forgive him!” There is still pity in the other man's eyes, and Louis seriously can't stand it.

“I could've cheated on him too, you know. And let me tell ya something, yeah? Maybe I will, now. Somewhere. With someone. Just like that.” He shrugs, turning away, though still feeling the guy's eyes on him.

“I'd guess you're rather the 'true love' type, aren't you?” Louis tenses, but he never learns if the man expects an answer, because the next moment, he stands up, dusting off his soaking wet sweatpants. “Well, never mind. I'm a doctor, I have to go.”

“Really?” Louis replies. He's actually surprised. The man rather looks like his profession involved a lot more exercise, like a fire fighter, maybe, or a police officer. “I'm a doctor, too. You don't look like it,” he adds after a short pause.

“Yeah?” the guy replies, bending down to be next to Louis' ear. “You neither.” Then, he begins to stumble in direction of the main road, still unsure on his feet, but determined.

“I never got your name!” Louis shouts after him. The sun is still pretty hot, and it makes the water drops in the other man's hair glisten as he turns around. “I think, first thing's first, you should find out who _you_ are,” he replies, and with that, he turns around again.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, Louis tugs at the expensive trousers that cling to his too-fat-thighs. “Psychologists aren't proper doctors!” he calls after him. “Just by the way.”

 

 

He is still soaking wet when he calls for a taxi ride home, and the driver glances at him out of the corner of his eyes as if he is absolutely bollocks, but Louis couldn't give a damn.

Manchester's roads are loaded today, and it takes a whole lot longer than usual to reach his parent's house. A few clouds have hid the sun away, only letting through a dim glow, projecting a pale ray of light onto the back of Louis' hand. He gazes at it absent-mindedly, trying not to think about the whole situation. Fuck it. Fuck everything. He had been working at Darren's office, helping out with the patients now and then when he hadn't been organizing the wedding. Now, he's unemployed, probably sitting in his racing car-shaped bed until he's fifty and even fatter, staring at his pin board, thinking about how much his life sucks. If his parents even let him move in again in the first place, that is.

 

After paying the taxi driver, he heaves the plastic bag that he took with him in his hurry out of the car and pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket. There's still a pig chain dangling from the pendant; the one Fizzy gave to him for Christmas in 2009, a bit battered-looking, but still.

Making his way up the stairs, he unlocks the door, stepping into the old brick building. Nothing is more comforting than the scent of home, really. He blinks his eyes at the sunshine coming through the window in the corridor, reflecting its light in the mirror at the wall. There is quiet talking audible from the dining room – as Louis walks towards the noise, he is rewarded with the sight of his step father sitting on a chair at the wooden table, his mother standing next to him, decorating a fancy, multi-level cake.

“I don't even get what exactly saddens you about the whole thing,” his mother huffs out as she carefully adds an almond flower to it.

His step father straightens his back as he slightly sits up, tilting his chin. “When Louis gets married off... I don't know. I feel so old.” Johanna smiles, sighing. “You _are_ old,” she says, ducking down to peck her husband's lips.

“I am not, not at all! I can run for 40 minutes straight!” Mark replies insistently, and that's when Louis decides to announce his presence by coughing quietly, hesitantly smiling when both of them turn around.

“Oh, Louis,” Johannah says, a surprised look on her features. “What are you doing here?” She dusts her hands off on the yellow apron she is wearing, letting her gaze wander to Louis' tense face. “Weren't you planning on... I mean, we were talking on the phone, you had an appointment with Milton...-” her voice slows down as she notices the bag Louis still clutches in his hands, gripping onto the straps tightly.

Johanna's eyes widen as she begins to comprehend why exactly her son is standing in her doorway. “No,” she exhales incredulously, not tearing her gaze away from Louis' face, who nods in defeat, biting his lip. “Yes, Mum.”

Straightening her back, Johannah shakes her head. “No. No, Louis.”

“Yes, Mum.” Tears slowly make their way into his vision, and Louis does his best to bite them back, willing himself to calm down. He won't cry again, not in front of his mother, who has been putting every single ounce of her being helping to prepare the wedding, fully aware of the fact that it means so much to her only son, now everything to no avail.

“What happened?” Mark asks, his voice bemusedly. “Have you put on weight again?”

If the situation weren't so serious and shit, Louis would roll his eyes. Instead, he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. This whole situation is so fucked up.

“Darren cheated on me with his assistant.”

With that, he lets go of the bag he had still clutched tightly, spreading his arms to receive one of his mother's infamous hugs, one that he urgently needs, at this point.

But instead of rushing to his side, Johannah runs her hands over her face, exhaling heavily. “But...” She struggles for words, letting her gaze wander to the ceiling. Louis lets his arms fall to his side again as she sinks into the chair nearest to her. “But he's a paediatrician!”

Now, Louis actually rolls his eyes. “What does that even have to do with the whole thing?” he huffs out, almost like a laugh, though not really.

Making his way over to the table, Louis slumps into the chair next to his mother, stroking her shoulder when she makes a whimpering noise. What the actual fuck, he just got cheated on by his fiancé, and now he's sitting in his parent's dining room comforting his mother, who nearly seems to be more bothered by that than Louis himself.

“Just to get to the point,” Mark says, finally having composed himself. “I never liked that paediatrician guy, I mean, just look at how his office is furnished! Clearly, his mental state is not that much better than his patient's! He'll not get you, son, not ever!” He slams a fist on the table between them, his face flushed with quiet anger. Mark usually is a very composed fair-minded person, but it's obvious that, under the surface, he's fuming. At least one of his parents, then, great.

“Mark, would you just stop it, please, I mean, he's not planning on breaking up with him, is he,” Johannah huffs, waving her hand in an airy gesture like casting something off.

“Well, to be honest, Mum, I am, actually,” Louis retorts, looking at his mother in disbelief.

From his peripheral vision, Louis notices Mark raising his eyebrows, but staying quiet.

Gasping, his mother turns to him with her whole body. “But you're almost thirty, you can't just give up on everything like that, at that because of an assistant!”

“Louis has my hands, he belongs in a hospital!” Mark cuts her off, causing a quiet smile to appear on Louis' lips. He's always gotten on with his step father really well, having known him since he had been a little boy. If there wasn't the obvious fact that there wasn't the same blood pumping through their veins, one wouldn't guess that they weren't related. They are similar in many different things, from their favourite dish to their favourite football club (Man U, thank you very much), and Louis wouldn't want to get to know his real father if someone paid him for it.

“Oh, Louis, why are you coming up with wanting to have a career so suddenly?” his mother says, lifting a hand to her son's cheek and stroking a thumb down to his chin.

“Becoming a plastic surgeon isn't that hard, not for you, at least, hm?” Mark tosses in, cutting his wife off again. “If I remember correctly, that has always been your big dream, hasn't it?”

“Yeah, it has” Louis replies, biting his lip, contemplating. He had put his career on hold to be there for the man he had thought was the one love of his life, and look where he's got from there. “If I hadn't met Derrek, I would have gone to the hospital anyway. _I_ always wanted to make my career, and then, Derrek had dinner with _you_ , and suddenly he was all like 'let's open a doctor's office, shall we?'” By now, he tastes blood again. Everything has gone to shit in a matter of a few hours, and now, he's sitting at his parent's dining table, almost turning thirty, neither a job nor the prospect of building a family anywhere near his vision. Isn't he too young for so much regret?

“Well, for that purpose, he damn right got twenty thousand pounds from us.”

At those words, Louis startles, slowly turning his head to his mother whose gaze was fixed on the shiny surface of the table in front of her.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see his step father tensing immediately.

“You gave him money?” he says, turning to Mark, who pointedly averts his eyes.

“Yeah, we – we wanted you to have an office, so you could always back out if you wanted, in case you decided to have kids, so you could take care of them and... and so you'd be happy,” Johannah says, now returning her son's gaze when he turns to her.

“Oh yes! Fantastic, now look at how happy I am!” Louis shouts, lifting his hands in defeat. Letting out an annoyed groan, he rises from his chair, grabbing the bag that still lies on the floor and making his way out of the doorway, feeling his parent's eyes follow him out of the room. He half-expects them to shout something after him, maybe even run after him, but there's nothing, and yeah, all right.

When he reaches the wooden staircase, he runs into his sister that is stomping her way down the last steps. “What are you doing here?” she asks in a bemused manner, pausing with a hand on the railing. “Is it Christmas again, already?”

Rolling his eyes, Louis leans an elbow on the railing. “Thanks, same to you. Why are _you_ here, Lotts, I thought you were studying law in Munich?”

His sister slightly averts her gaze before looking back up again, stroking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, that, well, I gave up on law. I do medicine now; I'll do an internship in Dad's department so I'm advanced when the courses begin.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, but Lottie begins to speak again before he can say anything. “Weren't you going to get married in London?”

Louis swallows. Great, there it is again, already. He wonders when he'll get used to the feeling the statement causes in the pit of his stomach. “Darren cheated on me.”

A bitter expression takes over his sister's face. “Really?” she says, and when Louis nods, she takes the remaining two steps at once to hug her brother tightly. “I'm really sorry, Lou,” she whispers into his hair, and Louis' throat feels constricted, so he just nods again, burying his nose into his younger sister's neck.

“That's so shit,” she mumbles. They peel away from each other, and Lottie clutches the railway a little tighter. “Martin broke up with me, too.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Louis says, but Lottie simply huffs out a small laugh and pinches his hip. “Cool,” she adds when Louis ducks away under her arm, hastily up the stairs, “so you'll live here again, yeah?” Louis makes a face at her, taking two steps at a time, still hearing his sister's laugh when he reaches his room.

He lets out a small breath when the door swings open, revealing a room that has not changed one bit since he was thirteen. Still the same racing car-shaped bed on the right handed side next to the white wardrobe that had once been filled with at least a dozen pairs of vans, massive oversized jumpers and black jeans, now only being left with two hangers of shirts with his old school's logo,

The desk under the window on the left is completely empty, though it hadn't been any different when he still went to school, and next to it, there is his old, second-hand cupboard filled with albums containing his stamp and Pokemon-card collections each.

Louis sighs again, slumping on his bed that he is still fully able to fit in to, since he hasn't grown that much since secondary school, really. The curse of being small.

Staring at the ceiling makes him dizzy, so he closes his eyes. The sound of his mother washing the dishes downstairs is the only one there is, and somehow, it's actually almost comforting to be here again. He relates so many good memories with this place, as well as some bad, of course, but that's not what it all comes down to.

Maybe now that he isn't bound to Darren anymore, he could really start a career. It's not too late yet, is it? And besides that, he always wanted to be a doctor. Actually, he still remembers the first time that became clear to him as if it was only yesterday.

The day he knew that he wanted to become a doctor was the 7th March 2002. His Mum had packed him a sandwich for school. There was liver sausage – liver sausage and... Harry Styles. Some boys where playing football in the break, and Louis sat on a bench eating his sandwich when the ball hit Harry in the head. He was eating a sandwich, too, and when the ball hit him, he began chocking on the bite he currently had been chewing. Great thing Louis knew mouth-to-mouth-resuscitation. Mark had practised it so often with him and his sisters, and he always thought it was boring; but when Harry Styles from seventh grade got a sinus rhythm and his pupils became isocore again, he knew it – he _had_ to become a doctor. Well, it would have been even greater if Ben Winston hadn't said 'Bummer totally snogged you there!' in a grossed-out voice, causing Harry to stand up hastily, spitting out a 'yikes!' before walking away. But Louis takes everything he gets, really. He would avoid Harry Styles for the rest of his life.

But the more he thinks about it, the more he realises it – he really wants to make his career. He really wants to fulfil the dream that had been his very own for so long now. He hasn't studied medicine in vain, after all.

Having made up his mind, Louis makes his way downstairs, where his mother currently sets the table, Mark standing in front of the mirror next to the doorway, buttoning his shirt.

“Mark, I've thought about it. I want to start at the surgery department.”

“No!” his parents exclaim at the same time, Mark sounding chuffed, his mother with an annoyed tone to her voice.

“Yes,” Louis stresses, smiling a bit, because now, some adrenaline's started to kick in, and excitement buzzes in his veins at the prospect of something new, something with a point. “That's exactly what I've always wanted, and I let myself get talked out of it, because of a man, even.”

“I'll take you right with me, I'm on my way to work anyway!” Mark says, a smile spreading on his features. “Then we'll make the contract ready and-”

“No, no, no, no,” Johannah cuts in, “first, we'll eat breakfast!”

Letting his eyes trail to his watch, Louis makes a surprised noise. It wasn't even nine yet. He basically got his whole life ruined in a matter of less than two and a half hours. That was a new record, even for him.

Instead of sitting down at the table like Louis and his wife, Mark mumbles something about 'looking for his tie', even though Louis isn't sure why the head of the surgery department of the local hospital would need a freaking tie, but all right. When his mother sits down opposites him, he takes a slice of bread and cheese and pours some tea in his favourite blue Doctor Who mug, smiling at the fact that his mother clearly made the effort to fetch that old thing from the back of the kitchen cupboard.

“Mum, I need my old lab coat,” he says over his chewing, and his mother looks up from her cup of coffee. She never was a big tea drinker, despite having her whole offspring being obsessed with tea. 'I need my caffeine in the morning', she would always say, and she surely did, working as a nurse full-time. She would always have dark circles under her eyes in the mornings when she gave Louis a ride to school on her way to the hospital. The circles aren't there anymore, now that she hadn't been working for eight years, but the need for caffeine remains.

“Relax, eat up, first, all right?” she says with a reassuring smile, and okay, she may be complicated and stressful and self-centred sometimes, but when she has composed herself again, she will always try her best to be supportive of everything Louis and his sisters ever do.

A few minutes pass in silence, only the occasional clatter of the cutlery interrupting the comfortable silence, before Johannah speaks again.

“Sorry about earlier,” she says, her eyes filled with sincerity. “I'm only worried about you, you know. Like, all the time. I know university hasn't always been easy on you, and I am just not really sure if that whole medicine thing makes you happy. You always used to talk about acting; you remember that school play you once did? You seemed so happy up there, I was never sure if you only gave up on that because of the financial situation in that field.” She taps her fingers around the mug that she holds in her grip, looking over at her son in silent contemplation.

“No, Mum, I just...” Louis pauses, biting his lip. “I love acting, you know I do. But I've wanted to become a doctor, since I was, like, twelve,” he says, shrugging. His mother still doesn't look very convinced.

“You know your father and I would have supported you, right? We always would,” she says, and Louis reaches over the table to squeeze her hand reassuringly. “I know, Mum, really, and I appreciate that, but what I'm doing really is what I've always wanted. And I don't know, maybe it's... not necessarily 'good', I wouldn't go that far, but... well, helpful, that it came down to this situation?” He really needs something to fidget with if he wants to continue talking about this, so he grabs his own mug and clutches it in a firm grip. “I'm still in my twenties, like, I had other plans for my life. I don't want to stay at home taking care of kids or anything if I haven't even gotten a chance to live my life properly before. I do want to work, I do want to have something to be proud of.”

Johannah smiles tightly, squeezing Louis' hand back. “You have a lot to be proud of, Lou. I'm very proud of you, always.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Louis replies quietly, a warm feeling settling in his stomach. “Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie.” She retracts her hand to grab another slice of bread when Mark steps into the room again. “Ready to go?” he asks, holding up a helmet.

“Are you serious?” Louis asks bemused, shaking his head in disbelief. “You're still not driving to work?”

“I'm saving the planet, son, that's what everyone should do.”

“But you're the boss, for fuck's sake.”  
“Louis!” Johannah interjects disapprovingly, Mark only rolling his eyes.

“I'd rather look stupid than get rusty. Come on.”

Louis shrugs, kissing his mother's cheek goodbye. “All right. But I'll have you know I'm not wearing a helmet.”

 

 

It takes them about 15 minutes to get to the hospital, and another five minutes to get upstairs, because apparently, fate has decided to betray Louis once again with the lift being defect up to the 4th floor today, causing them to take the stairs.

When they get to the Gynaecology department, which is located on the 4th floor, Louis is completely short of breath while Mark still looks fine, which is, well. Frustrating, to say the least, considering Louis is like, thirty years younger than his step father, and apparently utterly out of shape. Which doesn't come as a surprise, really, he thinks as he stands in front of the mirror in the small changing room, looking at himself. His lab coat is a bit tight around the shoulders – he can't fully stretch his arms without ripping the seam, and in white trousers, his thighs look pretty massive. He could cry, honestly, but well.

 

When he comes out of the room to the reception desk, Mark is already waiting for him, and together, they walk in direction of his office.

“Great to smell some hospital air again, isn't it?” his step father asks, smiling, teasingly bumping his elbow into Louis' side.

“Yeah, it is, actually,” Louis replies, ducking away, his heartbeat increasing slightly. He isn't even sure why he feels his nerves tightening, considering this isn't his first job, and he isn't usually shy or uncomfortable in foreign places. It's just – it's been so long since he did something new, something for himself, and it's like a new chapter to his life. A few hours ago, he had still been engaged, thinking about possibilities of having a kid with the man he loves, who's turned out to be a total fucking dick, and now, he's already here. And he doesn't feel too bad, actually, which is – surprising.

“ _Doctor Payne, please head to the labour ward immediately._ ”

Mark pauses, pointing to the lift on the right side of the corridor. “Just head to the 6th floor, okay? I'll follow you in a minute, I just need a quick talk with Doctor Payne.”

Louis shrugs. “All right.” When the lift doors swing open, there's an elderly woman in a wheel chair in there, a thin blanket on her legs, her expression confused.

“Is the cafeteria here?” she asks, fumbling with the frame of her glasses.

“Oh, uhm, no, that's on the ground floor,” Louis says charily, ducking down to help the lady press the right button.

“Oh, thank you dear,” she replies, nodding approvingly, accidentally dropping her glasses.

Louis quickly picks them up, causing the smile on the woman's face to lighten up. “Oh, silly me. Thank you so much.”

“You're very welcome.” Louis smiles, confidence taking over. He can do this. He's always loved interacting with people, helping people. It's definitely the right thing, being here, that much he's sure of. It'll be all right.

When the doors open on the ground floor, Louis helps her get out of the lift, and the woman shoots him another smile. “You're an angel, thank you. Goodbye!”

“Bye!” Louis replies, a light smile gracing his own lips. He smiles down at his white shoes as a man steps into the lift, standing behind him, the sound of him playing with his keys sounding through the room. The fresh air from the outside rushes in with him, and Louis shivers a bit, not losing his smile. It's such a great feeling to be independent again, already. He can definitely do this. Finally, his degree in medicine comes to good use. Finally, finally, finally.

“Bummer?” a familiar voice says in a bewildered tone, and Louis stiffens. Oh, shit. Oh, no no no no. Shit.

Slightly turning his face, but not quite looking behind him, Louis lifts his chin, making out the figure of a tall, slender man in a tight, expensive-looking coat, hair curly and almost reaching his shoulders, though not quite. Oh, fuck his life; why do these things always happen to him?

“It's me... Harry...?” The man says when Louis doesn't react, still not turning around. Fuck this, fuck everything, oh shit.

“Harry?” he asks, as if he wouldn't know which Harry it could possibly be, as if he wouldn't _exactly_ know just from the voice alone.

“Harry Styles?” the man says, stepping a little back from the wall in Louis' direction, who takes a sharp intake of breath that Harry hopefully didn't notice.

Harry Styles, whose lips he only was allowed to touch once. Who made his puberty a hell on earth, and who he was in love with until the end of sixth form anyway.

“You reanimated me one time,” Harry says, taking another step forward, standing next to Louis now, so the other man has to face him. “In seventh grade?”

Fuck his life, like, a thousand times. Harry looks so good, even better than when they were teenagers. His hair looks soft and a little less curly than back then. His eyes are still the same green though, but _god,_ he's grown like, ten inches, and he's so slim and probably muscular under that unbuttoned coat of his, judging by the outline of his abs that Louis can see through his white shirt, and his legs are so _long,_ and his milky-white skin looks _delicious,_ and there's a vein in his neck that Louis wants to bite.

He has to swallow, and Harry eyes him up in amusement. Louis has a feeling he has not changed a bit.

“Ah, _that_ Harry!” Louis exclaims, as if he had just noticed, and Harry lifts an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that one.” He nods, a dimple appearing when he smiles a cheeky smile. Louis heart skips a beat, and it's so forceful, he's convinced Harry must hear it.

“Well, I've reanimated so many people, you know, you just can't remember every face.” It's a lie, and Harry knows it, because his smile gets broader by the second.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he mumbles, eyeing up Louis' whole body, and Louis feels a tingle spread over his skin. “I thought you lived in London, and I remember someone saying you got very slim, but actually, you look just like always.” He bites his lips, then, to stop his smile getting even wider, and Louis feels his gut dropping. Fuck him, really.

“Harry,” he replies, faking a smile himself, “I hope you're here because you are very sick and nobody can save you?”

Harry raises his eyebrows, nearing his face to Louis', who feels the tingly feeling increase.

“I see, your braces are gone,” the other man replies, glancing at Louis' lips as if he was examining the state of his teeth. “A little too early, perhaps.”

Louis' smile tenses, but he forces himself to hold it.

In this moment, the panel over the doors announces their arrival on the 6th floor, and the doors swing open with the sound of a bell.

Louis walks out into the corridor without looking back, feeling the other man's eyes in his back, and he isn't sure if the chuckle he notices actually came from the lift or if it was just a trick of his imagination.

Fuck this. Oh, seriously, fuck this. Hopefully, he is right and Harry's just a patient there, even though he doesn't actually hope that he's terminally ill or something. Please don't let him be a member of staff, oh, for God's sake, please.

And that shit nickname. “Bummer”. Harry started calling him that when he was ten, thinking it was witty or something, referring to his “fat bum”. Everyone else started calling him that, too, afterwards.

He runs into Mark again at the reception, currently signing some paper work that a thin, blonde nurse had apparently handed to him, judging from the way she's looking over his shoulder while he skims the text.

“Ah, Louis,” he says when he briefly looks up and notices his stepson coming closer. “I'm just finishing this here. This is Taylor, she's a nurse in the Gynaecology department.” He nods to the blonde woman standing behind him.“Nice to meet you,” Louis says, and Taylor smiles, a bit cool, but politely.

Mark puts down a last signature at the bottom of the page, handing the papers back to Taylor, and when he turns around, he smiles at something behind Louis.

“Oh, great, and may I introduce you to the assistant medical director of surgery,” he says, and when Louis turns around, he feels a horrid rush driving through his veins.

“Louis, this is Doctor Styles.”

The horror doesn't leave him, and Louis feels himself frozen in shock when Mark continues talking. “This is my stepson, Louis, he's interested in an assistant job in surgery.”

When Louis finally dares to look up, Harry's face has been taken over by a smug expression, his eyebrows raised, looking into the other man's eyes like the cat who got the cream.

“Oh, really?” he says, his voice dripping with fake politeness. “That would make me your boss, wouldn't it?”

Mark nods, and Harry doesn't take his gaze off Louis.

“He's... I mean...” Louis does his best to let a fake smile replace the shocked tilt to his mouth, “He can't be older than 32, can he?”

“Well, Doctor Styles is the youngest medical director we've ever had,” Mark explains, smiling at Harry, who still looks at Louis. “That man's gifted, he is.” His stepfather bumps his fist into Harry's shoulder, and Harry laughs, his eyes trailing from Mark back to Louis, then to Mark again.

“Oh, professor, you again.” They both laugh, and Louis has a difficult time holding his strained smile.

“Wonderful that you two get along so well,” Mark says, looking back and forth between the two of them. “He will keep an eye on you, don't worry,” he adds, addressing Louis.

“Sure I will,” Harry confirms, his eyebrows raised again, and Louis nods, his eyes trailing to the wall behind the other man. Why does it always have to be him? Why can't he have some luck just _once?_

Mark turns to walk in direction of his office, having Harry and Louis follow him with Harry throwing one last, exceptionally amused glance to the other man.

“I wish I could experience that sort of adventures once again that this hospital has to offer for you young and brave people. But now, come on, to ward round ” Mark says, and Louis rolls his eyes, gladly unseen by the other two.

He increases his pace, leaving the younger ones to trail behind.

“I don't even want to know how you got this job,” Louis mutters between clenched teeth. “You only got your A-Levels because you slept with Ms Cole, after all.”

An exasperated expression takes over Harry's features. “I believe in biology, that kind of thing counts as tutoring.” He shoots another cheeky smile, and Louis rolls his eyes again.

“And, just between the two of us – I'm the best in here, so get your pink cat notepads ready and make some notes about what God has to tell you.”

So, Louis' biggest wish didn't come true, then. Harry hasn't gotten ugly and fat.

 

Mark didn't head to his office, after all. Instead, Louis follows him into a clinical, the woman from the lift lying in the bed, smiling brightly at him. Returning the smile, Louis feels himself relax a little. He mustn't let this dictate his behaviour. Harry might be his boss, all right, that's not ideal, but he can work with that.

God, he can _definitely_ work with that, he thinks, when Harry comes in a minute later in his very own lab coat, looking as if he made commercials for buttermilk.

Taking the woman's records, he raises his voice a bit. “Good morning, Ms Meyer. Problems with the stomach again, huh?”

“Yes,” the patient nods, her face bitter now, and Harry nods, as well.

“Epigastric afflictions, deverticulosis,” he says out loud, and only now it is that Louis notices a male nurse in the back of the room, and god, he doesn't think he's ever seen someone this stunning. The guy has deep brown, intelligent eyes, dark hair and a delicious stubble, looking at Harry with a quiet nod. Is this hospital fucking _filled_ to the brink with attractive people?

In this moment, Mark's phone rings, and his stepfather steps out of the door to receive the call.

Louis takes a closer look at Harry, who's still focused on the patient's record.

His skin looks so smooth, fuck. That has to be Botox. It's impossible to have skin like that.

He then notices Harry looking at him in bewilderment out of the corner of his eyes, turning his head to him slightly, clearly having noticed Louis' gaze, and Louis turns away hastily.

“Tuberculosis?” the patient asks incredulously, and Louis sees Harry almost rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Tuberculosis, Ms Meyer...” he says sarcastically.

Then, he turns around to fetch something from the nurse, and Louis steps closer, feeling sorry for the woman. How can you even be so rude as a doctor?

“Those are small particles in your intestinal wall,” he explains.

In this moment, Mark comes in again, addressing Louis. “I'll be away for an hour or so,” he explains, “but you're okay on your own, aren't you, boo?”

Louis flushes, and he literally _feels_ the smirk building up on Harry's face behind him.

“Sure,” he replies.

Mark nods, grabbing some documents from a desk next to the door, and with that, he leaves.

The instant Mark has vanished, Harry appears at Louis' side.

“ _Boo?_ ”

Louis ignores him, instead taking a look at the woman's record to have to do something. In his peripheral vision, he sees the nurse biting back a smile as well.

Skimming over the record, he startles.

“Um... The levels don't really match with a monovalent deverticulosis, Doctor Styles,” he remarks warily, looking down at the documents.

“Excuse me?” Harry replies icily.

“Well, yes, we had a similar case back when I was-”

“Nurse,” he was interrupted, and when he turns around in bewilderment, the patient is looking at him expectantly. “Could you bring me a glass of water, please?”

Louis stares at her. “I am not a-”

“Yes, nurse, why don't you bring the woman a glass of water?” Harry cuts him off, his eyebrows raised when Louis turns to him, successfully holding back a smirk whose indication still sits on his lips, anyway. Yes. He hasn't changed a bit.

“Well, I'd make an ECG,” he says, ignoring the other man's words, “a decent anamnesis.”

“Bummer, this woman comes here constantly, we only take care of the important things, and...” he ducks down a little to be right next to his ear. A shiver runs down Louis' spine.

“... I'm not talking about food.”

With these words, he turns to the woman lying next to Ms Meyer, who has her whole head bandaged. “Well, Mrs Turner, I heard we bought a little combat dog, hm?”


End file.
